Sins of the Father
by Gardener
Summary: futurefic. Starts fluffy, but doesn't stay that way. Spoilers for season 1, a little from season 2.
1. Chapter 1

September 30, 2016

6:57pm

Logan Echolls stood outside the doorway to his mansion and wondered how his existence had come to this. To most of the world, of course, Logan seemed to have the perfect life. Nine years previously, just out of college, he had spent more than a third of his inheritance from his mother to film, in black-and-white, an independent picture. Made, obviously, on the proverbial shoe-string budget, Logan's _Faust_ had used the gothic campus of the University of Chicago as the setting for the story of a brilliantly gifted young scholar, who, offered easy knowledge, health, wealth, and power by Mephistopheles, not in exchange for his soul, but rather for free, went on, spoiled rotten by not having to earn any of his success, to damn himself by his own actions.

The movie's initial release was very limited, and normally, despite rave reviews from the critics, it would have been consigned to the oblivion reserved for pretentious art-house flicks. The Echolls name, however, and the whiff of scandal attached thereto, had created that elusive thing known only as buzz. Everyone wanted to see what the troubled son of the tragic Lynn and villainous Aaron had produced. Even before _Faust_'s box-office grosses hit the nontuple digits, people were calling it the next _Blair Witch_, except actually good, Logan had always insisted. Then came the little gold balls and statuettes.

Offers followed from all the major studios, but Logan turned them down. Even if he had not, as the sole owner of _Faust_, just become independently wealthy in his own right for the first time, he would have refused. Instead, he set out to duplicate the success of his first movie. Again with his own money, and a very small amount at that, and again using black-and-white film and unknown albeit actually talented actors, Logan remade _12 Angry Men_, with the twist that, just as the jury became ten-to-two for acquittal, one of the two holdouts pointed out that, even if every single thing the other jurors were saying were reasonably possible, it was not reasonable to believe that all of them were true. Soon, the momentum had swung back the other way, until the jury voted to convict.

It was a gamble to alter a classic that way, but it paid off, artistically and financially. More money and more accolades came pouring in. Still in his twenties, if only barely, and with just two films, Logan had made more money than his father ever had, and he had done it without selling out. By all rights, he should have been happy. And yet, as he stood, exhausted and miserable outside the door to his house, his shoulders stooped and his brow furrowed, he considered for the hundredth time that day getting out of the movie business for good.

At the sight that greeted him when he opened the door, he felt the happiness that most would have imagined was his constantly. "Dad! Dad!" shouted Jason and Stephen, his seven- and six-year-olds, respectively, as they abandoned their checker game and raced toward him. Benjamin, their four-year-old brother, scampered off the couch where he had been sitting next to his mother as she read to him, and toddled after his older brothers.

"Boys, am I glad to see you," said Logan with a smile, as he crouched down to scoop his three sons into his arms. "Ugh," he mock-groaned as he lifted them all up to carry them back to couch. "You're all getting so big. Soon I won't be able to lift you at all."

"You always say that," answered Jason.

"Well, someday it'll be true," replied his father collapsing onto the couch next to his wife. Turning to her, he greeted her with a peck on the lips.

"Yuck!" shouted Stephen.

"No mush!" added Jason.

"You know, kids," Logan answered as he released them from his arms so that they could return to their game, then handing Benjamin back to his mother, in whose arms he promptly fell asleep, "someday you won't think mushiness is so terrible."

"Never," answered Jason.

"It's your move," interjected Stephen.

Turning back to his wife, Logan caressed her swollen middle and asked "how's Jennifer?"

"Very excited," answered Veronica Echolls. "She's been kicking me all day."

"Aww," answered Logan, bending toward Veronica's belly, "has someone been kicking her mommy?"

"Just think," answered Veronica, "in another two months she'll be out here, and she can boot you in the stomach." Logan knew that, for all her jokes, she was ecstatic to finally be having a daughter. Veronica adored all their children, but after three boys, she had been hoping for a girl, and after all the difficulty they'd had in conceiving Jennifer, Veronica had been glowing for the past seven months.

"She'll have to get in line."

"Rough day, huh?" asked Veronica, stroking Logan's forehead.

"You have no idea. And it's actually not even over."

"What happened?"

"Caroline walked off the set."

"Again? Why did you hire that witch?"

"Why did I ever decide to make this movie?"

"Anyway, I thought the whole point of using unknown actors was that they couldn't act like spoiled primadonnas."

"That was the theory, and it worked at first, except now that everyone knows that she's the star of a 'Logan Echolls' production," said Logan archly, "the press is treating her like a celebrity already, and, since she knows that the film is ninety percent in the can, she also knows I can't just fire her."

"That's too bad. What did you mean, though, when you said your day wasn't over yet though?"

"Ah, I have to drive over to Caroline's apartment later to talk to her, you know, patch things up, calm her down, get her to come back to work tomorrow."

"Are you going to miss dinner? Consuela's making lasagna, and—"

"Yeah!" interrupted Jason. "I love lasagna night!"

"Well, I can hardly miss lasagna night, now can I?" Turning back to Veronica, he continued, "don't worry, I won't go until after the kids are in bed."

"Oh, Dad, I just remembered," added Stephen, before running off to his room.

"What's gotten into him?" Logan asked Veronica.

"Good question, but I think we're about to find out." Stephen had returned, waving something in his hand.

"Mom, Dad, is this me or Jason in this picture?" Stephen asked, handing them the photograph.

"I told you, it's me," said Jason.

In truth, it could almost have been any of the three Echolls boys in the photograph. Jason and Stephen, despite being thirteen months apart, were often mistaken for being identical twins, and only because Benjamin was visibly smaller than his two older brothers were they not often mistaken for triplets. Logan and Veronica looked at the photograph and then at each other for several moments before Logan answered. "Actually," he began, "that's me when I was your age."

"No way," replied Stephen.

"Really?" queried Jason.

"Yup. Believe it or not, I was once as little as you two."

"Wait, does that mean," started Stephen, "that if you looked just like us when you were little, we'll look just like you when we're older?"

"I'm afraid so," answered their father.

"You should consider yourselves lucky," said their mother playfully. "You'll be as handsome when you're all grown up as you are adorable now."

"But who are these people in the picture with Dad?" asked Jason.

"Well, those are my parents," answered Logan.

"Really? How come we never go visit them like we do Grandpa Keith and Grandma Alicia?"

"Well, kids," began their father, "it's…."

"Complicated," finished their mother.

"We'll explain it to you when you're older."

"I want to know now!" shouted Stephen.

"Yeah, you always say you'll tell us things when we're older!" echoed Jason. Their shouting has roused their brother, and Benjamin was sitting up in his mother's lap, blinking sleepily as he looked from his two older brothers to his parents.

"Shh," said Veronica. "You've woken up your brother."

"Sorry," said Jason.

"But we still want to know," continued Stephen.

Veronica turned to her husband: "they're going to find out sooner or later. We may as well tell them."

"Maybe you're right. Do you want to do it?"

"Okay." Turning to her children, who, realizing they were about to get their way, were staring wide-eyed at their mother. Even Benjamin, having missed much of the conversation, was eagerly gazing at his mother. "Your daddy's mommy was named Lynn, and his father is Aaron. Now, you have to understand that Grandpa Aaron wasn't like Grandpa Keith at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Jason.

"Well, your Grandpa Aaron was a very bad man. He treated your Grandma Lynn and your daddy very badly."

"What did he do?" asked Stephen.

"Well, he would beat your Daddy terribly. And I don't just mean spankings. He would beat him with a belt, and sometimes he would burn him, and once he even broke his nose." Benjamin almost began to cry, until Veronica hugged him close and stroked his head softly.

"Did he hurt Grandma Lynn too?" asked Jason.

"Yes, but, not in the same way. He would sometimes…be mushy with other women." Jason and Stephen were not clear on exactly what that meant, but they understood that, as bad as being mushy was in itself, there was something even more wrong with Daddy being mushy with anyone but Mommy.

"So what happened?" asked Stephen.

"Well, eventually Grandma Lynn became so sad because of the way that Grandpa Aaron treated her and Daddy that she killed herself."

"Did Grandpa Aaron go to jail?" asked Jason.

"Not for that. You see, before Grandma Lynn killed herself, someone killed Mommy's best friend."

"Someone killed Uncle Wallace?" Stephen asked in horror.

"No. If someone had killed Uncle Wallace, how could he be alive now, dummy?" answered Jason.

"Jason, don't call your brother dumb, or Mommy won't finish the story and you can have Brussels sprouts instead of lasagna tonight!" shot back Logan.

"Sorry," answered Jason sheepishly.

"Yeah, don't stop the story Mommy," replied Stephen, by way of accepting his older brother's apology.

"Okay, so where was I? Right, no, it wasn't Uncle Wallace; this was before Mommy ever even met Uncle Wallace. Back then, Mommy's best friend was a girl named Lilly. She was your Uncle Duncan's twin sister."

"Uncle Duncan had a sister? Who killed her?" asked Jason.

"Was it Grandpa Aaron?" asked Stephen.

"As a matter of fact, it was, but no one knew it at the time. It took more than a year for Mommy to figure it out, and when she did…." Veronica paused for dramatic effect; her three sons stared at her, their mouths gaping open. "Grandpa Aaron tried to kill her too." At this, Benjamin almost started crying again, and it appeared as if his two brothers might join him.

"W-what happened?" asked Jason.

"Well, your Grandpa Keith got there just in the nick of time and saved Mommy, and beat up Grandpa Aaron."

"Yay!" shouted Stephen.

"I love Grandpa Keith!" said Jason.

"Well good, because he loves you too," answered Veronica. "Anyway, after that, Grandpa Aaron was finally put in prison where he belongs, and he's still there now."

"Good," said Stephen.

"They should put all the bad guys in jail," said Jason.

"Yes they should," responded Logan.

Just then, Consuela came in. "Pardon me, Mrs. Echolls, but dinner is ready."

"Thank you Consuela," replied Veronica. "Come on," she continued as her husband helped her up. "Let's go wash up for dinner."

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

October 1, 2016

8:36am

"Would you pass me the orange juice?" Veronica Echolls asked her husband.

"Course," replied Logan, handing her the carton between spoonfuls of his half of the grapefruit they had split. "I'm sorry for waking you. I just wish I didn't have to work on the weekends."

"Would you stop worrying about it already? I like getting up early on Saturdays, and the sooner you get done with this film, the sooner you can relax and have more time with me and the kids. By the way, I guess I must have been asleep already when you got back last night, so how did your meeting with Caroline go?"

"All things considered, not bad. She wasn't even home when I first got there, but the woman who lives in the apartment across from hers told me that she was out with a friend but would be back by 10:30, so I waited for her. When she finally got home, she was pretty pissed to see me, but she eventually calmed down. We talked for a while, and she said she'd be back at work first thing this morning."

"Well that's good news."

"You said it. I might actually finish this movie this decade. Speaking of which, how late are you going to let the boys sleep?"

"Oh, I figure I'll let them get up on their own time. That reminds me, Jerry called yesterday."

"What about?"

"He got an offer for you to appear on Letterman in December to promote your new film."

"Or I could just eat glass for much the same experience."

"Oh, come on. We can take the kids to New York. You know how they love the Natural History Museum, and they have a new show at the Planetarium, and—"

"That sounds wonderful, and I'd love nothing better than to go right now. But I don't see why I have to go on some vapid talkshow to get into the Planetarium."

"You don't, and if you don't want to do it, then you shouldn't do it." After a pause, Veronica continued, "you know, honey, if the movie business is making you so miserable, maybe it's time to just quit. I mean, if it's not making you happy—"

"You know, I've been thinking about that a lot myself lately. Maybe if I ever finish _After the Storm_, I should just pack it in. It's not like we don't have plenty of money, right?"

"What difference does that make? All our money obviously isn't making you happy."

"Can't argue with that."

"Logan, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, you know that."

"Do you know what would make you happy?"

"Oh, honey, that's easy. You make me happy. Jason and Stephen and Benji and Jenny make me happy. And it's not even that I really hate filmmaking, it's just that the kids are all growing up so fast, and I feel like I'm missing it."

"Then maybe you should quit. Or at least take a break for a few years."

"You know, I will do tha—" Just then, the doorbell rang. "Who could be at the door this early on a Saturday morning?"

"I don't know," answered Veronica, "but could you get it? You're dressed, after all," she finished, gesturing to the bathrobe she was wearing over her nightgown.

"Sure. Hopefully it's just someone I can get rid of."

As Logan walked to the front door, Veronica followed a little behind him, hanging back in the foyer. When Logan opened the door, he found two plainclothes policemen waiting for him, with two uniformed officers standing behind them.

"Well, what can I do for the LAPD this fine morning?" Logan asked with a plainly insincere grin.

"Logan Echolls?" asked one of the plainclothes officers.

"That's my name, don't take it in vain."

"Mr. Echolls, we have a warrant for your arrest."

"What?" shouted Veronica from with the house, as Logan stood there speechless. "What's the charge?" demanded Veronica.

"The murder of Caroline Bennett," answered the detective.

This time it was Veronica's turn to stand gobsmacked as Logan stuttered out "w-what?"

"Mr. Echolls, we're going to have to ask you to come with us," spoke up the other detective for the first time, taking Logan's arm to turn him around so that he could cuff his hands.

"Logan, don't say a word!" shouted Veronica. "Not one word! I'll call Charlie, I'll have him there before they even finish processing you. But don't say anything."

11:17am

"Docket number 179824, charge is murder in the second degree," called out the clerk at Logan's arraignment.

"Can I get a plea?" asked the judge.

"Not guilty," Logan called out.

"People have anything on bail?" asked the judge.

"People request remand," answered the LA county ADA.

"Your honor," replied Charles Berliner, the Echolls' attorney, "my client has ties to the community. He's expecting a baby in two months, for pity's sake—"

"His client is independently wealthy," cut in the ADA. "He owns homes and other properties in several foreign countries, including some that do not extradite to the United States."

"Mr. Echolls will be happy to surrender his passport. My client is looking forward to clearing his name."

"Turn over his passport? The man owns his own private jet, plus an ocean-going yacht."

This time it was Logan's turn to cut in: "what, you think I'm going to flee in my yacht? Your honor, this whole thing is crazy, I—"

"Mr. Berliner, control your client!" barked the judge. Logan fell silent.

"Your honor," interjected the ADA again, "the fact remains that Mr. Echolls is a serious flight risk."

"The fact remains," shot back Berliner, "that the DA's office is trying to punish my client just for being successful."

"We're trying to punish him for murder."

"Well, maybe you should see if you can convict him first."

"Enough," cried the judge. "Look, the fact remains that we're dealing with a very serious crime here. Defendant is remanded without bail."

3:17pm

"I can't believe this is happening," groaned Logan, his face in his hands. "How long am I going to be in jail for?"

"I wish I could tell you, but it just depends on so many different factors," answered Charlie.

"Like whether I'm convicted?"

"That's not going to happen, and I'd like to introduce you to the people who are going to make sure of that," said Charlie. "Logan Echolls, meet Bill Caplan and Lisa Cortland. They're both senior associates at Preuss and Ridley, specializing in criminal law. They'll be directing your defense, and they're the best."

Logan stood and extended his hand. "Logan Echolls. Wish I could say it's a pleasure to meet you two, but, under the circumstances…."

"Perfectly understandable," replied Caplan, shaking Logan's hand after Cortland had. "Why don't we get right down to brass tacks?"

Just as they were all sitting back down, the door burst open and Veronica strode into the room. Her short blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a long black leather coat over a grey silk blouse and black slacks. The glow of pregnancy that had suffused her the last time Logan had seen her, that morning over breakfast, was muted now; instead her eyes shone with the fire of an erinys.

"Veronica, I swear, I didn't—"

"Logan," interrupted his wife as she stared him dead in the eye, "I know you didn't do it. What we need to worry about now is finding out who did."

"Actually, Mrs. Echolls," began Cortland, rising from her seat, "that's not what we need to worry about. We don't need to find out who did it, we only need to stop the prosecution from proving…." Cortland trailed off, wilting under Veronica's stare.

"That's where you're wrong, Miss…."

"Mrs. Echolls," interrupted Charlie, "let me introduce Lisa Cortland and Bill Caplan. They'll be heading up your husband's legal team."

"Well, Miss Cortland, Mr. Caplan, I'm sure you're both very good at your jobs," began Veronica with a polite nod, "but here's what you need to understand. It's not enough to get my husband acquitted. Because unless we can prove that he didn't do it, he'll still be guilty in the eyes of public opinion. I won't have that, not for his sake, and not for our children's sake. Secondly, there's no surer way to get him acquitted, or to just get the case dismissed, than finding the real killer. Lastly, there's a dead woman to think of, and even if the police are so unimaginative that they arrest my husband just because of what his father did, she still deserves justice."

"That's all very well, Mrs. Echolls, but I'm afraid the prosecution's case is a little more substantive than that," answered Caplan as he gestured to the box of manila folders on the small table.

"We had better get to it, then," answered Veronica, sitting down and beginning to look through the various police reports on the case.

"All right," began Caplan, "the police received a 911 call at 6:23 this morning from one Sarah Rodriguez. She's the vic's next-door neighbor. She said she was going out for her morning jog when she saw blood seeping out from under the vic's door. She bangs on the door, no answer, so she calls the police."

"Wait," Veronica cut in, "Logan, you said you talked to the next-door neighbor last night, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Did you catch her name?"

"Huh? Yeah, it was Sarah Rodriguez; I remember because, well, I guess she recognized me or something, because she asked me to sign the box of her _Faust_ DVD, and I remember asking whom I should make it out to."

"The witness' statement confirms that," added Cortland, holding up another file. "Bill, do you want to go on?"

"Sure; cops arrive 6:31, break the door down, find the corpse of Caroline Bennett lying on the kitchen floor, right near the door. Officers first on the scene secure the area, call it in. CSU arrives 6:53, homicide detectives get there a few minutes after. CSU determines cause of death is blunt-force trauma to the back of the head, single blow, most likely from a stainless steel pepper grinder, of all things. Apparently it was part of a set the victim owned. Anyway, CSU also fixes time of death between 10:30 and 11:30 the night before—"

"Wait," Veronica interrupted him, "they based that on the body temp?"

"Uh, let me see, yeah, says here it was 30.6 degrees Celsius when they checked rectally at the scene—"

"Hang on, hang on," Logan interrupted him this time, "you're telling me they stuck a thermometer up the corpse' butt?"

"Logan," answered his wife, "how did you think they took a corpse' temperature?"

"I tried not to think about it, actually. Seriously, isn't there any other way to do it?"

"Sure there is," answered Veronica, "sometimes, particularly if it's a case where there are signs that the person had sex beforehand, they don't want to disturb that evidence, so they'll make an incision in the abdomen and put the thermometer in there."

"Why did I ask that question?"

"Look, I hate to interrupt you two," cut in Caplan, "but do you want me to continue here or what?"

"Wait, I'm sorry," replied Veronica somewhat sheepishly, "but what about other signs? I mean, body temperature can be manipulated—"

"I know," answered Caplan. After a pause, he continued, "I, you know, I read your father's book, I know—you know, actually, I read it because my crim law professor recommended it to me, and—anyway, I know about the Lilly Kane case and everything. But I already checked: the police report says the body was in full rigor by the time it was found, which suggests that—"

"It was at least six hours or so since the body died," finished Veronica.

"That's the thrust of the prosecution's case," answered Caplan. "Their witness, Rodriguez, says she saw Mr. Echolls leaving right around 11:30—"

"Wait, hang on," cut in Logan, "that's true, I did leave around 11:30, but I didn't see her again on my way out, and her apartment door was closed. How could she have seen me?"

"In the statement she gave to the police, she told them that she first heard you ringing the vic's doorbell around 10:30, and when she saw who you were, she got really excited and—"

"We covered that part already, she asked me to sign her copy of _Faust_, she told me that Caroline would be home around 11:00, but then she went back into her apartment and I didn't see her again."

"Right, if you'll just let me finish, she told the police that she was so excited to meet you, I mean, apparently Bennett had told her that she was working for you, but she didn't really believe it, and she says she was so excited that she spent the entire time looking out at you through the peephole in her door, and she remembered that you left just around 11:30, because she remembered checking the time to see if it was too late to call her mother to tell her about having seen you and gotten your autograph," concluded Caplan.

"So just to be clear, that's their entire case?" asked Veronica. "They put the time of death between 10:30 and 11:30, and they've got a witness who puts my husband and Bennett going into her apartment together around 11:00, and then Logan coming out alone around 11:30."

"Well," answered Caplan, "Rodriguez also said that she heard your husband and the victim arguing, both out in the hall and after they'd gone into the apartment."

"It doesn't make any sense," Logan all but yelled. "Yeah, I got there around 10:30, Caroline got there at 11:00, yeah, I left alone at 11:30, and yeah, Caroline and I were arguing, but she was alive when I left. I mean, why would I have wanted to kill her? I was trying to get her to come back to work so I could finish my film, which I can hardly do now that she's dead!"

At this point, Cortland spoke up: "Uh, Mrs. Echolls, maybe you'd like to leave the room for a few minutes? The prosecution does have a theory about motive, but it's, well, given your condition…." At this, she gestured vaguely toward Veronica's middle. Charlie, who had known the Echollses for many years, just rolled his eyes at the suggestion.

"Don't worry about my condition, let's just hear it." Veronica answered.

"Mr. Echolls," Cortland tried again.

"Look," answered Logan, "I want her here, so enough already."

"Alright," conceded Cortland. "While they were examining her apartment, the police checked the victim's answering machine message. There was one message, left at 10:46, according to the machine, by one Jodie Lurmann. She was the friend Bennett was out with. After they parted company that evening, Lurmann apparently decided she had something more to say. Do you want me to read the transcript of the message?"

"Yes, already," answered Logan.

"Okay: 'Carol, it's Jodie. I've been thinking about what we were discussing, and I should have said this months ago, but I really think you've been making a terrible mistake. First of all, he's a married man, and second of all, you work for him. And you know how in all the interviews he's given, he always says he likes to use unknown actors, and that he doesn't use the same actors twice, and listen to why he says: 'actors are to drama what paint is to painting. As soon as an actor becomes a celebrity, people stop seeing the character and start seeing the celebrity.' Seriously, like paint, can you believe that? So he clearly has no respect for you; you're just a means to an end for him. He doesn't really care about you at all; all you are to him is an instrument to make his precious movie and an instrument to get him off. And look, I didn't want to bring this up, but you know what they say, like father like son. I just think you should end this thing now. Look, anyway, I know you probably think it's not any of my business, but I had to say this.' Anyway," continued Cortland once she had finished reading the message, "that's the motive they're working with now."

Logan sat there agape for another moment before turning to his wife and gasping out, "it's not true, I swear, I—"

"I know it's not true," answered Veronica, "I trust you."

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: There is of course no such Infiniti model as the QX64, but this story is set eleven years in the future. Just picture the QX64 as being an even larger, more expensive, and more luxurious version of the QX56.

* * *

October 1, 2016 

5:56pm

"Mrs. Echolls, do you—"

"Mrs. Echolls—"

"Veronica, why—"

Veronica Echolls nosed her Infiniti QX64 through the frenzied crowd of reporters, crawling toward the gate that led to her driveway. She toyed briefly with the idea of gunning the engine and rolling right over the crowd of microphone-wielding pit vipers that stood between her and the sanctuary of her mansion.

"No," she thought to herself, "as satisfying as it would be for a few minutes, I can't do Logan any good if I get arrested too."

Finally she passed through the gate into the circular driveway and turned the engine off. She climbed down out of the SUV's cabin, and headed toward the doorway, passing her father's car where it was parked.

"Mommy, Mommy," yelled Stephen from the den, "come look at what Grandpa helped us make!"

"Yeah Mom, come see," echoed Jason.

As Veronica crossed from the foyer, through the main hall, past the drawing room, her heels clicking on the mottled white Carrara marble floor, she heard a whirring noise coming from inside the den. As she entered the room, she could see that the sound came from the model-train set that Keith had helped his grandsons set up all along the floor. Jason, Stephen, and Benjamin were watching, rapt, as the electric train circled the track, Benjamin clapping his hands and gurgling happily whenever the train passed next to where was sitting, Indian-style, on the floor. Veronica's stepmother was seated on the sofa, watching over the top of a software magazine as her husband played with his grandsons.

"It looks amazing," turning toward her father and stepmother, she added "thank you again for coming. Alicia, I—would you watch the boys for me for a little bit? I need to talk to my father."

"Of course. Are you hungry? I didn't know what time you'd be back, and I wasn't sure what you wanted to do about dinner, but I found a defrosted chicken in the fridge, so I put it in the oven to roast about ten minutes ago. It should be ready in about an hour. I mean, I know you have people to cook for you and everything…."

"I gave all the help the weekend off; I just didn't want too many people around right now. But that chicken sounds excellent. Thank you."

Veronica had called her father that morning, right after she had gotten off the phone with Charlie. Keith and Alicia had rushed up to Los Angeles to watch the children while Veronica went to see her husband and his lawyers. Now, as Veronica led her father back through the hall and into her study, the day's events began to catch up with her. As soon as Keith shut the door to the study behind them, his daughter all but collapsed in his arms, crying.

"Oh Dad, w-why is this happening to us? W-what are we going to do?"

"Shh," answered Keith softly as he held his daughter, "it'll be alright. You saw Logan? How is he?"

"I think he's like me; you know, trying to put a brave face on things. I think he was mostly scared that I wouldn't believe him, and that he might lose the kids. Oh, Dad, what am I going to tell Jason and Steve? I mean, they're old enough, on Monday, the other kids at school…."

"We'll think of some way to tell them. We don't have to worry about that right this instant though."

"And did you hear what they're saying on the radio: 'like father, like son,' 'guess the apple didn't fall too far from the tree, huh?'"

Keith shook his head as he responded, "I know he's tried so hard all these years to not be like his father; heck of a thing to fail now."

"He did not fail. And I am not going to fail him, and Dad, if, if you're not—"

"Then we don't fail. Do you have the case files?"

"I have copies right here. Our lawyers got their discovery motions in right away, so…."

6:18pm

"Okay," began Keith as he put down the last of the files, "their case is not the aff—the alleged affair. Their case is that their witness has him going into the apartment with the victim at 11:00, coming out at 11:30, and the CSU puts the time of death between 10:30 and 11:30. So, either their witness is lying or mistaken—"

"We'll have to talk to her, but right now we've got no reason to believe that."

"Or, the time of death is wrong. Now, I know the rigor matches up with the algor, but even so, estimating time of death from body temp is never an exact science. Now, it says the victim was out at dinner with this other woman, Lurmann, before she got home. Once the full autopsy report comes back on stomach contents, level of digestion, we might have a better idea of the time of death."

"Dad, that's all well and good, but we can't count on that. Right now, we have to work with the information that we have in front of us."

"Fair enough. What do you have in mind?"

"A great detective once gave me a book to read in which another great detective said that once you rule out the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"So where are you going with this?"

"Logan left the apartment right around 11:30. Now it is not possible that she was anything but alive when he left, but she died no more than a few minutes later. So the killer was already in the apartment when Logan and Bennett went in together."

"The neighbor didn't see anyone else leave—"

"But remember, she only watched until Logan left, then she ran to call her mother. The killer could have left any time later."

"There were no signs of forced entry," Keith noted.

Veronica narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "That proves what? There's more than one way into an apartment. In any case, I want to check out the crime scene, and I want to talk to the two detectives on the case, and to the officers who were first on the scene. And I want to interview these two witnesses, Rodriguez and Lurmann, for myself."

"Is your P.I.'s license still current?"

"I thought I might need it someday."

"Well, that day is tomorrow. It's already getting late, and you've had a rough day as it is. We'll get started first thing in the morning. Now why don't we go see about that chicken?"

9:23pm

"Mommy, why isn't Daddy home?" Stephen Echolls asked his mother as she tucked him into bed.

"Well," began Veronica, swallowing hard, "Daddy had to go away for a little while, but don't worry, he'll be home soon."

"Is it something about Grandpa?"

"No sweetie, I just thought it would be nice for Grandma and Grandpa to visit, that's all."

"No, not Grandpa Keith, I mean Grandpa Aaron."

Veronica turned away from her son for a moment and squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could. After only a moment, though, she opened them and turned back to face Stephen. "No sweetie," she answered, pausing to kiss Stephen's forehead, "Grandpa Aaron is safely in jail, where he belongs. Your Daddy just has to finish his film, that's all. Now go to sleep, okay?"

October 2, 2016

9:24am

"Good morning, Detective Yarbrough, Detective Granger, thank you for meeting with us. As you know, we're investigators with Preuss and Ridley, the firm that's representing Logan Echolls in—"

"Um, we know who you are, Mrs. Echolls," interjected Granger. "Your father too."

"I actually read your book, Mr. Mars, you know, _Big Murder, Small Town_," added Yarbrough. "I thought, well…."

"I think what we're both trying to say," continued Granger as he offered Veronica the comfiest chair that was available at the West Los Angeles Community Police Station, "is that while we know this all must have come as a terrible shock to you, we want you to know that we didn't just jump to conclusions because of what happened with your husband's father…."

"And we didn't just decide to go after your husband just because he's a celebrity or something," Yarbrough added nervously.

"Detectives, please," said Keith, reassuringly, "we know that you two are both professionals who have a duty to follow the evidence wherever it leads. You said you read my book, so you know I was a cop once too, and that I know a thing or two about going where the case takes you."

"And while obviously this case is very personal to us," added Veronica, "I think it would be for the best if you just thought of us as two licensed private investigators who have been hired by Mr. Echolls' attorneys to review the evidence to try to develop an alternate theory of the crime. Everyone's entitled to a defense, after all."

"Of course," replied the two policemen in unison. "Ask away," added Yarbrough.

"Why don't we start with your witness, the next-door neighbor, Sarah Rodriguez," began Keith. "It seems to me that your case depends pretty heavily on her…."

"We thought about that," answered Granger, "so we checked her out. Twenty-seven, got married four years ago, divorved two years ago, no kids, been working as a nurse at Cedars-Sinai the past five years. Divorce was amicable, some credit-card debt, but no major financial troubles, no priors or other legal problems other than a few parking tickets that got paid on time, more or less. No known history of substance abuse."

"Apparently something of a fan of Mr. Echolls' work, actually," added Yarbrough, "although," he concluded hastily, "not so much that she seems obsessed or anything like that. I mean, she had copies of the DVDs of _Faust_ and _Twelve Angry Men_, but she seems to be something of a movie buff in general. I mean, she owns a lot of movies on DVD."

"Oh, and her LUDs showed a call to her mother at 11:31, lasted until 11:47, just like she said," finished Granger.

"Well, let me ask you something else then," Keith said after taking a moment to digest everything he had just heard. "Your reports said that the likely murder weapon was a stainless steel pepper grinder that the victim owned…."

"That's right," replied Granger. "It was lying on the floor right next to her body, and there was blood on one end of it—even though it wasn't lying in the pool of blood from the wound or anything—and the M.E. said the wound was consistent with the shape of the end that had the blood on it."

"But you didn't find Mr. Echolls' fingerprints on it?"

"Well, no, but we figured he might have wiped off the end he held, or pulled his sleeve down over his hand before he picked it up," answered Granger again.

"But you did find his prints elsewhere in the kitchen?" asked Keith.

"Well sure, on the kitchen table, on one of the chairs, on a glass of water that was on the table, but he couldn't have wiped off everything he touched," replied Yarbrough.

"Did you find his prints anywhere else in the apartment?" asked Veronica, "say, in the bedroom?"

"Um, no," said Yarbrough, "but the best friend, Lurmann, said that Bennett told her they always went to hotels."

"We know it must be terrible for you to find out about that, especially to find out about it this way, and, well, what with, that is, under these circumstances…" added Granger, gesturing vaguely at Veronica's midsection.

"I appreciate your saying so, but let me ask you this," began Veronica with slightly exaggerated thoughtfulness, "your case-files said you first learned about this supposed affair my husband was having from a message that this Lurmann woman left on the victim's answering machine. Before you played the message back, was the light on the machine blinking?"

"I'm not sure," said Granger.

"I don't think so," added Yarbrough.

"Well, when you played the message, did the machine say something like 'new message' or 'no new messages, old message—"

"Yes, I mean, I remember distinctly that it said 'no new messages,' etc.," cut in Granger.

"Yeah, that's right, I remember that," added his partner.

"Is it possible that any of the officers who arrived on the scene before you might have played the message before you got there?" Veronica went on.

"No, they'd know better than to do anything that might disturb a crime scene," answered Granger.

"I think that's all we need to know then," answered Veronica brightly as she rose ponderously from her chair, "but if you'd just give us the name of the first officer on the scene so we could confirm that last point, we'll let you get back to work."

10:01am

As soon as they were out of earshot of Patrolman Michaels, who had confirmed that no one had touched the answering machine from the time he broke open the door to the time Granger and Yarbrough had arrived on the scene, Keith took his daughter's arm and stopped her. "Veronica, I still had more questions for those two. And do you want to tell me what's so important about this answering machine? I told you, the affair's not their case, the timing is their case."

"No," answered Veronica with a grin, "the proposition that no one else was in Bennett's apartment at 11:30 is their case. The answering machine proves there was."

"What do you mean?"

"Lurmann left her message at 10:46, after Logan arrived at Bennett's door, but before Bennett got home at 11:00 to let him in, and yet Logan didn't see anyone leave the apartment before then. And yet someone played that message back before the police arrived Saturday morning."

"But it could easily have been Bennett or Logan who did that."

"But either way, Logan would have heard the message, right? And why would he bother to wipe his prints off the murder weapon, but not to erase an incriminating voice-mail message?"

"Ah-hah," said Keith with a grin. "So someone must have gotten that message before 11:00, which means the person must have been in the apartment before 10:30, and then left after 11:30."

"And since, based on the fingerprints, Logan never left the kitchen, it stands to reason that the two of them just sat talking in the kitchen for the entire time he was there. It would have been easy for this other person to wait in another room of the house when he heard people coming, sneak up behind Bennett right after Logan left, pick up the grinder off the kitchen table, hit her with it, and then be on his way."

"Veronica, you know I am so proud of you right now, but you know we need more evidence than that."

"I know. Why don't we go have a chat with Miss Jodie Lurmann?"

To be continued….


	4. Chapter 4

October 2, 2016

10:36am

"So what do we know about this Lurmann character anyway?" Keith asked as he pulled the car into traffic.

"Let's see," replied Veronica from the shotgun seat, "according to this she's twenty-four, same age as Bennett. Two of them met back in college, U. Wisconsin-Madison, came out to Hollywood together afterwards to make it as actresses. They roomed together for their first year here; then Lurmann moved out."

"They have a falling out or something?"

"If they did, the police don't seem to have found out about it, or they didn't put it in the file. According to this, they were still close right up until Friday night."

"So what does she do now?"

"She's a waitress at Barefoot. You feel up for Sunday brunch?"

11:52am

"See, this is why I don't understand why you and Logan wanted to move to L.A. It's the middle of the day; how can the traffic possibly be this thick?"

"Is there some law that when you become a grandfather, you have to start complaining about things like that?"

"Yes, but curiously, only in forty-two states. If we lived in Georgia or Indiana, for instance, I wouldn't be required to complain at all."

"If we lived there, I'm not sure there'd be so much traffic to grumble about."

"There speaks a woman who's never been to Atlanta."

"I'll turn on the radio, maybe the traffic report'll have an easier route."

"—ould hurt Kane's campaign for the governor's mansion. As of last Wednesday, he had only a four-point lead in the polls, and—"

"No way, Terry. People will understand that he's standing by a friend, and they'll respect that. Besides, it's only another month until the election; the trial probably won't even have started by then, so—"

"Look Phil, it might be nice if people suspended judgment about guilt or innocence until after the tri—" Keith snapped off the radio.

"We're almost there anyway. We just need to find a place to park."

"Dad, they have valet," Veronica answered absent-mindedly as she stared out the window.

12:04pm

"Excuse me," Veronica said to the hostess, slipping her a one-hundred-dollar bill, "do you think you could seat us at one of Jodie Lurmann's tables?"

"Right this way."

"Are you going to wear those inside," Keith asked as they were led to their table, nodding toward Veronica's sunglasses and baseball cap.

"Necessary evil."

"Necessary evil?"

"They are necessary to prevent me from being recognized, which will prevent us from having to face a mob of evil paparazzi on the way out."

"Ah, the price of fame."

As they sat down, their waitress, a pretty blonde whose smile did not manage to disguise her melancholy, came up to their table and asked "are you guys ready, or do you need another minute?"

"I'd like the Healthy Joe's Scramble and the Granola Yogurt Parfait, oh, and a glass of orange juice, please," ordered Veronica.

Keith raised his eyebrows at his daughter's order and said "and I'd like the Eggs Benedict and a cup of coffee, black, please."

"Great, I'll be right back with your coffee and your o.j."

After Lurmann had left with their order, Veronica turned to her father and said "Eggs Benedict? Do you know how unhealthful that is?"

"'How unhealthful?'" Keith shot back. "And seriously, an egg-white omelet with spinach, turkey, onions, and mushrooms, plus non-fat yogurt with granola and fresh berries? It's like I don't even know you anymore."

"Hey," answered Veronica, patting her stomach, "I have to think of Jennifer here. She needs protein, calcium, iron, and folic acid. What neither she nor her grandfather needs is Canadian Bacon drenched in Hollandaise sauce."

"You're as bad as your stepmother. Once in a while is okay. Besides, Alicia has me going to the gym with her three times a week, so I get plenty of exercise."

"Well, good for her."

Just then Lurmann returned with their drinks. "Your food will be out in just another few minutes. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Some answers would be nice," responded Veronica.

"I'm sorry, I don't—"

"We're private investigators working for the lawyers representing Logan Echolls," Keith explained. "We just want to ask you some questions, that's all."

"Well, I already told the police everything I know, so—"

"Great, so now you can tell us, too," cut in Veronica.

"Please understand," Keith went on, "everyone is legally entitled to a defense, and to confront the witnesses against him. Which doesn't mean that we're here to attack you. We just want to get to the truth."

"Well, alright, what do you want to know?"

"You phoned Caroline Bennett the night she was killed. What time was that?" asked Veronica.

"Around a quarter to eleven."

"That's just what the time-stamp on her voice-mail said," Keith added, nodding. "Tell me something though; the two of you went out to dinner together just before. Why didn't you just tell her in person what you thought of the affair? Why leave it on her answering machine?"

"It's kind of a long story…."

"We're patient," responded Veronica.

"You have to understand, Caroline and I, we met our second year in college, and we became, like, best friends right away. And we always talked about how we'd come out here, become big stars. And, I mean, she was always kind of wild, you know, but, I mean, you just felt more alive whenever she was around. I mean, I never would have had the guts to come out here, not without her, you know?"

"So what happened?" Veronica asked softly. "The two of you roomed together your first year in L.A., but then you moved out. Why?"

"Like I said, she was always kind of wild, and, well, she would have like, a different guy over every week. Man, I must make her sound like she was the biggest slut ever. She wasn't like that though, but, well, it could make her a little difficult to live with…sometimes."

"I know what you mean," Veronica answered with a small nod.

"Look, I need to go check on another table, but I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure," responded Keith. After Lurmann had left, he turned to his daughter and asked "are you alright honey? You kind of lost the rhythm there."

"You were right Dad, it is harder to be bad cop." The two of them sat in silence until Lurmann returned, this time with their food.

"So," Veronica began, "did you and Caroline have a fight? Is that why you moved out?"

"No, it was nothing like that. I never told her how, you know, what I, why I wanted to leave. I just made up an excuse about this play I got a part in and needing a place closer to the theater. Maybe I should've told her, maybe things would have been different."

"When did you find out about this affair with Logan Echolls?" Veronica asked.

"Right from the beginning. She was so excited when she told me. I thought it was wrong, you know? I mean, he's married, with, like, three kids. They didn't deserve this. I kept wanting to tell her, you know, or at least tell her to stop giving me all the little details. I didn't want to hear about it, but I couldn't even begin to tell her to just shut up about it. I keep thinking I should've said something sooner."

Veronica was silent, her face pale. "Why didn't you?" Keith asked.

"I thought she'd be angry at me."

"You said you knew about it right from the beginning," Veronica cut in. "When did it start?"

"Right after their first day of shooting _After the Storm_. I remember being so excited when she told me she got this part, I made her promise to call me right after the first day, to tell me how it went. Well, it was like after 6:30 in the evening, and she had told me that the shoot was only scheduled to go through four o'clock, and then she finally calls me and tells me to guess where she was."

"And?"

"She told me that, well, that she had been in this hotel room for the past two hours, and that Logan Echolls had just left. She said that the two of them had been, you know, kind of flirty ever since they met during the auditions, and then, well, they decided to, you know, just get a room. She thought it was really cool, 'cause he was such a big celebrity and everything."

Veronica nodded, an unreadable expression on her face. "I see. Look, I'm sorry, I need to confer with my partner for a minute. Do you think you could get me another orange juice?"

"Of course."

After Lurmann had left, Keith leaned over the table and asked his daughter "are you alright honey?"

"I think I may be better than alright. Hang on one second," she finished as she fished her cell phone out of her purse. "Come on," she said to no one in particular after she had made a call, "pick up the phone Marty…."

"Who's Marty?"

"He's—Marty, yes hi….Thanks, I appreciate on the set, huh?...Everyone suspected?...Is that right?...Look, there's something I wanted to ask you, do you remember the first day of shooting?...No, in the Korean War, of course I mean the first day of shooting _After the Storm_….They both left right around four?...Right, but do you remember what the date was?...Would you check?...February 29? You're sure?...Thanks Marty, you're a live-saver."

"What was that all about? What are you doing now?" Keith asked as Veronica ended the call but continued fiddling with her cell-phone.

"That was Marty, Logan's assistant. Apparently there were rumors flying around the set about Logan and Caroline. I was just asking him about the first day of shooting, when this affair supposedly started."

"Look, Veronica, I know this must be difficult for you, but—"

"Ah-hah!" Veronica cried in triumph.

"What?"

"Dad, do you know why Logan ended shooting at four that day?"

"Why?"

"We were…having trouble conceiving Jennifer, and this specialist we saw put us on this schedule, and we never missed a…session. I was just checking my calendar," at this, she held up her phone, "and, sure enough, February 29th, 4:20pm. Logan could not possibly have been with this Bennett woman at that time, because he was with me!" Just then, Veronica's look of elation disappeared. "I'm sorry Dad. You probably didn't want to know all that, did you?"

"Veronica, I'm a grown man; I didn't think my grandchildren were being dropped off by the stork."

"Don't you see what this means though? If Bennett lied about the first time—"

"It stands to reason she lied about all the other times. But why?"

"Why would anyone lie about sleeping with a gorgeous celebrity?"

"You're right, stupid question."

"Dad, you always told me there were no stupid questions."

"That's just something parents are supposed to say. Seriously, though, I think this is great, but it doesn't really help us. They still have a witness who heard Logan and Caroline fighting. Even if it was just over the movie, that's enough of a motive. We still need to figure out who really did this."

"Well let's start from the beginning: who else might have had a motive?"

"That sort of depends. Was the killer angry at Bennett, and Logan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was the killer trying to frame Logan, and Bennett was just a convenient way of doing that?"

"What if it was both?" Veronica said with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it: what if the killer also 'found out' about this nonexistent affair, and was angry about it. Then he'd have a reason to hate both Logan and Caroline."

"A boyfriend."

Veronica snapped her fingers into a finger-gun, and then gestured Lurmann back over.

"Thanks," Veronica said when Lurmann brought her juice. "Do you think we could ask you just a few more questions?"

"Sure."

"Was Caroline seeing anyone, at all seriously, I mean, before she got involved with Logan Echolls?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, there was this guy she was going out with for a few months. He was this really skeevy creep, too. Said he was a producer; he'd make her a star. But she broke up with him right after she got the part in _After the Storm_."

Veronica's eyes lit up. "Did she give this guy a key to her apartment?"

"Yeah, but she made him give it back when they broke up."

"One last thing: you wouldn't happen to know this guy's name, would you?"

"I remember his last name, 'cause it was kind of unusual, it was, oh crap, it's on the tip of my tongue, it started with a 'g' I think. Like Gonen or somethi—"

Veronica's jaw dropped open. "Goran? Dylan Goran?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's it exactly! How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess. Would you bring us the check please?"

"Fine, but first tell me how you knew this guy's name."

"His name's come up already in our investigation, that's all. Now we know what his connection was, that's all."

"Oh, okay."

With that, Lurmann turned to get their bill. As she was walking away, Veronica called to her one more time: "Jodie, don't blame yourself. Trust me, there was nothing you could have said that would have made any difference."

After Lurmann was out of earshot, Keith hissed across the table "who is this Goran? How have you heard of him?"

"I'll explain in the car."

2:42pm

Dylan Goran groaned as his eyes fluttered open. He rolled over as if to go back to sleep, but when he saw the short, pretty, and visibly pregnant blonde woman sitting in the chair at the foot of his bed, he bolted upright.

"Wow, Dylan, you must have had some Saturday night, huh? I mean, here you are, still asleep at this hour?" Veronica asked as she twirled Dylan's keychain around her finger.

"What are you doing in here? How did you get in?"

"Wrong questions. See, I know what you did, and I know how you got into Caroline Bennett's apartment. You made a copy of her key before you gave it back to her, right? Is it one of these?"

"You've got all the answers, you tell me."

"That's a yes, I take it. So you found out that she dumped you for Logan Echolls. That must have pissed you off. I mean, first his sister borrows ten grand from you, doesn't pay it back, and she promises to get her father to star in your movie, but not only does he not do so, he beats you down pretty darn thoroughly, as I recall. That must have been bad enough, but you probably felt better when he went to prison. But then, all these years later, here you are, still a loser wannabe producer, and you find out that the psycho's son steals your girlfriend. I mean, it's not enough that he's got everything, he's got to take what's yours too? So, you go over to her apartment, let yourself in with the copy of the key you made, wait for her to come home. You wait around a while, hear the phone ring, hear someone leave a message. You were probably in the bathroom or something, so you didn't actually hear the message as it was being left, so you play it back. Then you hear her come in with Echolls, they're fighting, you hide in the back of the apartment, wait for him to leave, bash her over the head with the pepper grinder, then just leave. Did I leave anything out?"

"I know who you are. You of all people should be thanking me."

"I'm overcome with gratitude. So you admit you killed Caroline Bennett and framed Logan Echolls for it?"

"Sure, I admit it. Doesn't matter, no one'll believe you anyway."

"They'll believe you, moron. I've been taping this whole conversation."

"Bitch." Dylan sprung out of bed and started advancing toward her. "It still doesn't matter; nobody'll ever hear that tape."

Just then the bedroom door swung open and Keith stormed through, leveling a twelve-gauge pump-action shotgun at Goran's chest. "I know it's an old line, but please, make my day."

To be concluded….


End file.
